


The Grease of Thanksgiving

by MissChambers



Category: Cheers (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChambers/pseuds/MissChambers
Summary: Continuation of the iconic Season 5 episode "Thanksgiving Orphans".The evening is coming to an end and the consumed glasses of wine are catching up with Diane.Sam provides the friendly gesture of driving her home - but is it all friendly?





	The Grease of Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, fellow writers, Cheers fans, etc.  
This is my first fic published on AO3. I've published quite a few other places and now it's time for me to try my luck here. I'm a huge fan of Cheers (especially Sam and Diane) and I will mainly provide fics related to the show and those characters. I'm a huge fan of the work that is published here, containing Sam and Diane, and I look forward to upcoming works! Kudos and comments will be much appreciated, but most of all: I hope you enjoy this one.  
Happy reading!

The door smacking behind Norm and Vera marked the end of a memorable Thanksgiving, filled with on and off turns. In the end, they were bitter not to have seen Vera for the first time but able to laugh at the comedy of it all. All tired and ready to finish up, the guys helped Carla clean the table.

Diane tried to help, but it was noticeable that her several consumed glasses of wine were catching up.

  
“Slow down there, Bambi,” Sam said taking a hold of her grease-covered waist to steady her.

  
“I’m fine, Sam. I just need some water. I’ll help cleaning,” she said, eyes battering and hands waving him off.

Frasier, who was picking up dishes from the other side of the table, looked up at Sam and shook his head.

Sam shook his head too, “No, I think it’s time for you to go home,” he declared, keeping his hold on her.

  
Before she could protest, Sam yelled at the others in the kitchen.

  
“Guys, I’m gonna take Diane home!”

Carla came out, a dishcloth on her shoulder.

“Yeah, we’re better off without the drunken stick throwing pies anyway,” Carla commented, giving Diane the elevator-look.

Sam watched Diane struggling to respond and he let one of his hands mindlessly run up and down her back.

“I’ll come back if you need any help,” Sam said, slowly starting to lead Diane toward the door.

“Don’t worry about it. We got it covered. Cliff has some experience doing dishes for his mom.”

Sam nodded with a smirk.

“Well thanks for tonight anyway,” he said, trying to maneuver Diane to the door.

“Let me get you some towels to put on your car seats before you leave,” Carla noted.

______________________________

In the car, he drove carefully, fully aware she was already having a headache as a result of the wine.

“You okay, there?” he asked, throwing a look her way.

“Yes. I don’t know what got into me. I’m usually able to control myself.”

“No wonder when you decide to drink through your entire speech of irrelevant people.”

She wanted to be angry at the comment but instead, she chuckled ironically.

“What a night, huh?” she said, looking out the window.

He took another look in her direction, long enough to see the street lights reflect on her face.

“I’ve sure never seen that much food end up on people instead of in them,” he chuckled, having his eyes back on the road.

“Must be the first time you leave a Thanksgiving dinner without being full,” Diane kid.

“You bet,” he grinned.

The streets were utterly quiet. Most people were probably back from their dinners already. He looked at the car watch that showed 11:30. A late cooked turkey combined with a food fight sure did take up a lot of the evening.

After moments of silence, he decided to check on her again.

“Didn’t think I could think that fast, huh?”

“Pardon me?”

“When you threw that pie at me.”

“Don’t remind me,” she said, covering her face in embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure Norm will come to visit once again…when Vera has passed away.”

“By the looks of it, I don’t think Vera will be the first of the two to be taken away by death.”

“Probably not,” Sam bitterly chuckled, looking at her.

“You know, Sam…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you didn’t bring a date tonight,” she continued.

“Come on, I told you. She canceled the last minute,” he defended himself.

“Nonetheless,” she continued, “I was relieved to see you had gone on your own. I had my doubts running out of the professor’s dinner toward yours. But I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You shouldn’t have worried about that. We’re glad you came.”

“You’re just saying that,” she murmured, wringing her hands.

“No, I mean it,” he exclaimed, throwing a look in her direction, “Without you, we wouldn’t have changed back to football on the TV.”

She slapped him on the arm.

“Hey, I’m driving!” he shouted.

“Well, I’m hurting!” she shouted back.

“And you’re drunk,” he stated with a head tilt.

“Look, I was only kidding,” he clarified, “I can’t speak for Carla, but I’m sure the rest of us were happy you turned up. After all, you did arrange it for us.”

“I suppose I did,” she mumbled.

“And you’re right. It would have been wrong for me to bring a date. I’m glad things turned out the way they did,” he proclaimed.

“How exactly?” she smiled, looking at him.

“Don’t read into it, Bambi. Take a rest the rest of the way, will ya?”

She smiled and turned her head against the window.

When he pulled up to her building, she was asleep against the window, probably drooling a bit.

He chuckled as he turned off the engine and took out the key. Turned toward her, he took a moment to take in the feeling of being in her company without any expectations, knowing looks, or words being said.

She was covered in food from top to bottom, just like he was. Despite her utter disapproval of a food fight to begin with, she had joined it rather intensely and carefree once the jam, thrown by him, hit her face.

He noted the stains from his first throw were still visible on her face and her ridiculous pilgrim outfit.

Looking at her observantly was peaceful and rather enjoyable, but he knew he had to break the silence, getting her upstairs.

He gave her a gentle shake on the shoulders and she groggily sat up, blinking a few times.

“We’re here,” he said quietly.

She hummed, seemingly unaware about where “here” was.

“Do you want me to follow you upstairs?”

She nodded, eyes remaining shut.

He exited the car and jogged to the other side to open the door for her. When she didn’t respond firstly, he extended his hand for her to take. She stood up, uneasy on her feet. He was quick to lay her arm around his neck, putting his own around her waist. Steadied, he finally closed the door and locked the car.

“Boy, you sure are a lousy drunk,” he chuckled, following her inside her apartment building.

“You would know,” she replied with a grin.

Entering her apartment, they headed straight for the bathroom. He seated her on the toilet, making sure she could keep balance on her own. Her eyes were half-closed as he proceeded to take off her shoes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up a bit before getting you to bed.”

She smiled shortly before leaning her head back, shutting her eyes completely closed.

He took the opportunity to get a towel and wash her face. Just do it fast, his mind told him, but his hands worked slow and neatly, making sure her face was completely free of leftovers and whatever makeup she might have been wearing. Her eyes were closed the whole time, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep again. Then he noticed the corners of her mouth turning upward and as he did so, he failed to notice her hands running down her clothes, collecting grease in her palms.

Before he knew, his face was being covered with food all over again. She wasn’t holding back as she kept smudging it all over his face, making sure no place was left bare.

He didn’t fight her, but instead sat back and let her have a go, enjoying her sweet, manic laughter.

“Revenge is sweet,” she said, gently slapping him on his cheeks before letting go of his face completely.

“You’re done?” he asked with a smirk.

She tilted her head, letting her eyes wander observantly over his face, evaluating her work, “I believe so,” she replied with a satisfied grin.

“Good,” he retorted, “Now it’s my turn.”

Before she could react, his hands were holding her face in place for him to mash his against hers, giving back the food she had decorated his with. Despite squealing on her part, he didn’t stop. He laughed as he kept going, and he heard how her squeals turned into laughter too.

Exhausted, he stopped. Yet his hands remained on the sides of her face and his forehead rested on hers.

Both had been too occupied with fighting and laughing it wasn’t until now that they realized the proximity.

Looking square into her eyes, he felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to breathe properly. He had no idea what the next move would be or whether he was prepared for it to happen or not.

Her eyes lowered.

Her lips parting was an indication.

Mindlessly he followed, licked lips leaning in closer to meet hers. Her lips were full and warm as he remembered them to be. They responded immediately, yet slowly, forcing the pace to match and making every lean in something special and overwhelming.

A lump formed in his throat along with all the loving feelings he had tried to cover up.

He wanted to increase the pace, making it more passionate than loving, but he couldn’t. He was under her spell, unable to go against her powers. He was caught in the trap he wanted to avoid.

“Sam?”

He woke up from his trance, his imagination running away with him, but also forcing him to realize a kiss would be too much for him to handle at this point.

“Yeah?” he nonchalantly replied.

“Are you done?” she chuckled, tugging at his hands, that sure enough were still placed on the sides of her face.

“Sure,” he smiled as he let go and stood up.

He extended a hand for her to take and she gladly did, bouncing up.

“Weren’t you supposed to be hungover?” he asked with suspicious, arched eyebrows.

“I know my alcohol limits,” she joked.

“Right,” he laughed.

She smacked him lightly on the chest.

“So, you’re fine then?” he checked.

“That depends,” she hummed.

“What do you mean?”

“Would you stay if I wasn’t?” she asked with a smirk.

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, “Come on, Diane. Let’s not make this more than it is. A friendly gesture.”

“Very friendly, indeed,” she said, appealing.

“You really know how to turn things around, don’t you?” he asked, annoyed.

She tightened her lips for a short moment, throwing her hands to the side, “I’m just enforcing the obvious.”

“And what’s that exactly?” His hands went to his hips.

“That you’re here because you care. And if I was, in fact, feeling sick, you would stay to be certain I would be okay,” she softly replied.

“That’s a lot to presume based on me driving you home.”

“You didn’t merely drive me home. You followed me up, you cleaned me up. You made sure I was alright.”

“I would have done that for any of the guys at the dinner, had they been drunk.”

“But you did it for me. Despite the fact, you supposedly ‘don’t care’.”

“What do you want from this?” he asked, face expressionless.

“I want you to admit to it.”

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“Oh, really?” she asked with her forehead in a frown.

“Really!” he said, feeling beyond frustrated.

“Then why did you have your hands on the sides of my face and your eyes on my lips as if you were going to kiss me?”

Damn, he thought.

“You want the truth? I’m gonna tell you the truth. Yes, I thought about kissing you, and you know what? I didn’t! You know why? Because it would be a mistake.”

“Why, exactly?”

“Haven’t I been clear about that? I don’t love you, alright!”

There was a moment of silence after that. 

“Prove it,” she said in an almost whisper.

“What?”

“I’ll need proof of what you’re saying is true. Kiss me and if you show no emotion whatsoever afterward, you can leave, and I won’t question it.”

“You’re crazy--”

“Are you going to prove me right or wrong?”

He cut his teeth. When his mind was made up, he stomped toward her, mumbling swearwords the whole way. When he reached her, he didn’t stop. He pushed her backward and pinned her against the main door, not looking her in the eye before leaning in, body tense.

He wanted to do the exact opposite of what he had done in his imagination. He wanted it fast-paced, leaving no time to think.

But he was stopped in his track. Her left hand was on his throat, cupping it with her thumb and forefinger spread, stopping him from taking control.

Unwillingly he looked up right into her eyes. They were full of life and emotions he couldn’t quite find the words for. He realized he wanted to know. The second he relaxed, she let go of her grasp and let her fingers slide around his neck. She let him take the lead, now sure he wasn’t going to abuse it.

It was better than his imagination, letting his lips unite with hers again. The last time he kissed her it had been a desperate attempt to keep her from going away with a younger, more intelligent and attractive guy than himself. That time he hadn’t thought. He just went through with it and felt hungover afterward. This time she had forced him to think. Forced him to feel from the very beginning.

And every part of his body did. He felt her fingers in his hair, giving him chills. He tasted the wine on her lips, lingering from earlier on. He heard her moan his name in between kisses, silencing her with more.

He felt his body melt, leaning into hers. He felt his lips longing for more every time they parted from hers. He felt what he had seen in her eyes. Love and desire.

He knew he had to stop before it took over, but he feared it was too late. He feared she had felt it too. She must have.

He ended the kiss, taking two abrupt steps back. His eyes were half-open, not daring to meet hers again. His body tensed again, feeling extra vulnerable being parted from hers.

He knew she would tell him she was right. Knew she would use it as her “proof”.

But strangely enough, he didn’t hear a peep, and it forced him to look up.

She had tears in her eyes, hands folded in front of her, looking on the edge of a breakdown and he couldn’t understand why. Just when he was about to ask, she spoke.

“Thank you, Sam. You may leave now.”

Surprised, but incapable of doing otherwise, he did what he was told, walking out a door that was quickly shut behind him.

He was left in despair, not able to comprehend what had just gone down. Hadn’t she felt it? Letting him leave immediately told him the opposite.

A part of him wanted to burst in and demand an explanation. A part of him wanted her to have felt it too.

On the other hand, he should be relieved if she hadn’t. And even if she had, she had let him off the hook.

He stood by the door for a few minutes, trying to make out any sound from the other side. But it was deadly silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do you think Diane threw him out afterward?  
Let me know your thoughts in the comment section.


End file.
